Before
by Exceeds Expectations
Summary: Before and after. Then and now. Sirius Black and Nymphadora Tonks. Because before the end, there was the beginning. And before that, there was Sirius. /Remus, beginnings, middles, ends, and befores. RemusSirius, RemusTonks.


**A/N: **Written for Swimming - Butterfly in the Hogwarts Games, with the assigned pairing of RemusTonks. I promised myself I would try to leave Sirius at the door. This is what happened.

* * *

**i. before the beginning - 1976**

"Remus," Sirius laughs, and runs his fingers along your arm so that the hairs stand on end, begging for his touch again, "What are we?"

And it's moments like these that break you. Moments like these, where you are forced to think and define and work out exactly why this boy's heartbeat matches yours, why his lips taste like forever and his skin smells like home, why you are addicted to his company.

He blinks at you, silver eyes shining like the moon you will always run from, always fear.

"Human," you say, forgetting the days where you wonder if you are human at all. "We're human."

And you kiss him, soft as anything, and he says, "I thought so."

(But his eyes always search yours for the truth.)

**ii. the beginning - 1996**

"Remus," Nymphadora says, and bites her lip tentatively, as if she is scared. "Remus, look at me."

And it's moments like these that break you. Moments like these, where you are forced to look and observe and open your eyes to everything new and different in the world, everything that has been waiting for you to notice it, everything that has been keeping you alive since –

She blinks at you, silver eyes shining like those of the boy you will always pine for, always miss.

"I can't," you say, and stare at your shaking fingers as they button up your coat. "We can't."

And she kisses you, soft as anything, and she says, "We can try."

(But you know trying is for fools.)

**iii. before the middle - 1980**

Harry is heavy in your arms. You can feel his warmth through the fluffy blanket he is wrapped in, and it's oddly reassuring.

"He really does look like a tiny Prongs," Sirius says, and you've never seen him so in awe. "Look at his little mop of hair. Reckon he'll need glasses?"

He tickles Harry's tiny feet, pulls at his wrinkly toes. Harry's peals of laughter echo around the room and you can't help but chuckle. He _is_ just like James, but those big eyes... It's odd to see your best friend's face in miniature with someone else's eyes shining through.

"Lily's eyes," you say quietly.

"Yeah," Sirius says. "Hear that Harry? You're proof that ol' Prongsie got what he wanted in the end, aren't you?"

He tickles Harry again, and you shake your head fondly at the two of them.

Harry smiles, all gums and chubby cheeks, and Sirius sighs.

"Merlin," he says. "An actual _baby_. I don't feel old enough for this, do you, Remus?"

"Not at all," you say. "Which is why I'm not the one having them."

Sirius snorts. "Yeah," he says, "and shagging another bloke has nothing to do with it."

Harry, you discover that day, quite likes it when Sirius is punched.

Sirius , you find, does not.

**iv. the middle – 1998**

Teddy is heavy in your arms. You can feel his warmth through the thin blanket he is wrapped in, and it's oddly familiar.

"He looks just like you," Andromeda says, and you've never seen her so happy. "Look at his little cheeks. Think he's a metamorphmagus?"

She coos over your son, your _son_, and you feel tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat at the thought. He yawns, pink mouth and pudgy fingers, and you see that his little eyes are startlingly familiar – those silver grey eyes, those moonshine eyes.

"Black eyes," you say quietly.

"Yes," Andromeda says, and you wonder if she knows, if she has any clue at all. "He's gorgeous, isn't he, dear?"

"Perfect," you say, mouth unsmiling. "You never feel old enough for this, do you?"

"Never," she says, that warm smile and those understanding eyes aimed at your worry lines, your panicky eyes. "You're always a child in your own head, Remus. No matter how many wars you've fought."

You look at her, and she is still smiling.

"Give him here," she says, and takes baby Teddy from your arms. "I'll put him to bed. You go and see how Dora is doing."

"I will," you say.

Teddy, you discover that night, doesn't like it when his mummy and daddy aren't nearby.

Neither, you find, do you.

**v. before the end – 1994**

"Jesus Christ, Moony," Sirius says, his words lost to the skin of your throat. "I've missed you, missed you, always missed you, I'm sorry."

"Shhh," you murmur, hands peeling his clothes from his frail body, forgetting _new scars_ and _old scars_ and _bruises_ like _freckles_, forgetting _sharpness_ and _angles_ and _bones_ like _knife-kisses_, forgetting _betrayal_ and _confusion_ and _twelve_ _years_ _apart_, and his skin tastes like so many _what if_s_._

"I'm sorry," he says again, and he is crying, but so are you, so you kiss his tears away and hope you can praise the temple of his body with more than just a prayer against his lips.

"Shhh," you murmur, "it's okay."

And your hands are on his sides and your lips are on his skin and he's saying _i love you, i love you_ over and over again, and you fall asleep in a heap of worn-down bones and broken men, until the darkness takes you far away.

(You wake up smiling for the first time in years.)

**vi. the end – 1998**

"Jesus Christ, Remus," she hisses, her words lost to the fabric of your cloak. "Don't do this; don't leave me here. I need to fight."

"Shhh," you murmur, hands pulling her close to your chest, whispering about _promises_ and _vows_ and _happily ever after_s, whispering about _someday_s and _one day_s and _when Teddy's grown up_, whispering about _love_ and about _us_ and about _I'll always be here_, and her lips taste likes so many _I'm sorry_s.

"Don't do this," she says again, and she is crying, but so are you, so you kiss her tears away and hope you can praise tell her how much she means to you with more than just the burning in your eyes.

"Dora, I need you to stay," you say, and your voice is cracked and broken, cutting your throat like glass. "I need you to be safe."

"Remus, I can't - " she starts, but you kiss her silent and bruise her hips with your fingers.

And you leave her there, like a frail shadow of a warrior when you know she is so much more, comforted by the knowledge that she is keeping your son safe, and you throw curses and hexes and jinxes like they're all you have left, until there is a scream and you turn and it's _her_ and there is too-bright a flash and –

You fall asleep in a heap of worn-down bones and broken men, as the darkness takes you far away.

(You don't wake up – but you're smiling.)


End file.
